


Stupid Cupid

by aerClassic



Series: stop picking on me [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ highkey clowning Yunho at all times, Implied background relationships, M/M, Yunho is a Confused Baby, non-au, the timeline is kept vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerClassic/pseuds/aerClassic
Summary: All Yunho wanted was a simple answer to a simple question: who's the guy Hongjoong wants to bone?(And please god don't let it be Mingi.)





	Stupid Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by recent vlives (':  
> come scream about hongjoong w/ me @[tumblr](https://aerclassic.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/AerClassic)

 

 

“Hyung, can I paint your nails?” 

Yunho watches Hongjoong, hunched over on the shitty couch of their dorm, pause in blowing on his fingers to get the base coat dry.

“Uh, why?”

Yunho shrugs. There’s no particular reason for it other than he likes to do things for the other members of their group. Hongjoong spends so much time making sure everyone else is well taken care of that Yunho just thinks it would be nice to do something for him, for once. Maybe it will give his hyung some small amount of relaxing down time. A pamper session, if you will.

And he maybe, kind of, desperately wants any excuse to hold Hongjoong’s tiny ass hands. Just for a little while.

“I mean, if you really want to I don’t mind.” Nails dry, his hyung hands him a bottle of black polish and grins, sweet and trusting. “Just try to not get it everywhere.”

Yunho sticks his tongue out like a brat, unscrews the cap. “I can be careful,” he grabs one of Hongjoong’s palms and very carefully doesn’t think about how small it is in comparison to his own. The first swipe of the brush on the pinky nail has Yunho stifling laughter, the brush had spread out to cover parts of Hongjoong’s actual finger. “Not my fault you’ve got the fingernail of a toddler—holy shit, hyung.”

Hongjoong smacks him in the thigh even as he snickers too. “Leave me alone, giant.”

Yunho reaches over to tickle into Hongjoong’s side, hand tight around his wrist so the still wet polish doesn’t touch anything important when his hyung tries to flail away.

“Yunho-yah, stop stopstopstop!”

“Fine, fine,” Yunho’s heart does something completely unacceptable at the happy flush on Hongjoong’s cheeks. “Come back here so I can actually paint the rest.”

Hongjoong gives him a squinty-eyed mock glare before settling back against the couch, knees brushing ever so slightly against Yunho’s own. He has to use every ounce of willpower he possesses not to immediately squeal like a prepubescent girl; it is appalling how affected Yunho is by the slightest touch. Hongjoong makes himself comfortable and breaks the silence talking about a new music program Eden-sunbaenim had showed him earlier, his excitement infectious to the point Yunho can’t help but grin along to the story.

“Eden-sunbae says he wants me to try writing some lyrics for his next EP,” Hongjoong is dreamily staring off into the middle distance. “I don’t think I’m really at that level yet but I want to try.”

Yunho frowns down at the first finished set of nails. “Hyung, don’t say that. You already write lyrics for us all the time, this would be no different,” he waves Hongjoong’s hand around by the wrist to help dry the inky polish, Hongjoong just letting it happen in easy acceptance. Yunho puts a finger to the dimple in his own cheek to coo out “Hongjoong-hyung-ah is the best~” in the most obnoxious aegyo he can muster.

They’re silent for just a beat before they both fall against each other to laugh like idiots—thank god no one is in the dorm at the moment or they’d probably be yelled at.

This close Yunho can see every eyelash crinkle against Hongjoong’s full cheeks, could almost count every freckle usually hidden by foundation if he wanted to which, honestly, he really does. He has to force himself to go back to blowing on the nearly dry polish before he does something stupid. Like confess the dumbass crush he hasn’t been able to get rid of in the last six months.

Hongjoong finally sobers and leans his chin against his fist. “What do you want to do after this Yunho?”

“Probably play the game I got the other day,” Yunho sticks his tongue out in concentration for this one particular dainty nail—jagged on one edge where Hongjoong tends to bite down when he’s distracted or worried, it’s making the brush tip an encumbrance. “It’s really cool! You’re this guy trying to track down—”

“No, no, I mean what do you want to do after this idol business?” Yunho glances up, Hongjoong’s expression looks a little dark and a lot too serious for someone who’s getting his nails painted. “I know I want to make music, but for how long and how successful I’d be...I dunno. I don’t have a fall back if this doesn’t work out.”

“Mmm, that’s kind of hard to say. I know I want to dance for as long as I can, maybe use it as a form of therapy, eventually. Or I’ll just end up with a military job, you never know. But, hyung,” Yunho pulls Hongjoong’s arm from his face to lace their fingers together. “You’re going to be great as an idol and you’re going to do great as a music producer. Besides even if you don’t make it, you’ve always got the rest of us to fall back on. We love you, we’ll always have your back.”

Hongjoong’s eyes go a bit misty so Yunho quickly tries to think of something to break the somber mood. “We can always find a nice sugar daddy for you. Either way.”

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “You’re the worst.”

Yunho snickers, goes back to waving the other hand now completed in the air.

“You know that doesn’t dry it any faster, right? You’re probably just making the polish all weird and ripply.”

“Eh,” Yunho shrugs indifferently, swings both of Hongjoong’s hands around. His fingers actually fucking overlap over on the delicate wrist, Yunho tries his best to ignore the urge to shovel food into his hyung’s mouth immediately. “It’s fun. You didn’t say no to the sugar daddy, by the way. Interesting.” Yunho gives his best impression of a greasy chaebol—wiggling eyebrows and all. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Hongjoong just purses his lips, eventually drops his forehead to rest on Yunho’s shoulder, and mumbles, “I’ve only told a handful of people about...that, how’d you guess?”

“Seonghwa told me you almost drooled all over yourself when some guy took his shirt off in front of you the other day.”

“Wha-what?” Hongjoong instantly jerks his head up and flushes bright red starting from his ears, it’s cute. Hongjoong has always been cute. His hyung smacks at him when Yunho can’t hold back the urge to coo at him any longer. “Did Seonghwa...did he say who it was?”

“No,” Yunho narrows his eyes at the way Hongjoong releases a breath in obvious relief. “Why? Do I know him or something?”

The blush is back full force. “No!” 

“Oh, so I do know him.” Yunho ignores the bitter taste of disappointment on his tongue. Of course. It’s probably Choi San, knowing Yunho’s luck. “Who is it, hyung? Maybe I can help!”

“I’m-I’m sure you can, but I, ah,” Hongjoong clears his throat. “I’m not planning on doing anything about it, just let it go.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that though,” Yunho pouts. “At least give me a hint?”

Hongjoong lets out a laugh that sounds forced even to Yunho’s ears. “Okay one hint.” He holds up a crooked pinky, “But _only_ one and we never speak of this again. Deal?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to grip their pinkies together, he can always wheedle information out of Seonghwa later. “Deal.”

“He’s,” Hongjoong pauses for dramatic effect. Yunho leans forward—like if he gets close enough the information will transfer via involuntary telepathy. “Taller than me.”

Yunho can’t help the disgusted noise that falls out of his mouth. “That’s a terrible hint, everyone’s fucking taller than you!”

“Ah, ah,” Hongjoong smugly wiggles his pinky in front of Yunho’s face. “We agreed on one hint, not that it had to be especially useful.”

Hongjoong starts laughing when Yunho rolls off the couch with a cushion to whine pitifully into the floor. Though, now that he’s here and getting intimately acquainted with the heavy duty rug, Yunho thinks he should probably ask Seonghwa to work his cleaning magic in the living room—this floor was absolutely disgusting and he was definitely getting a pimple just from being so close to it. Probably Mingi’s fault, that guy had never done his chores right even when they were trainees at the dance academy.

“Yunho-yah, hey,” Yunho feels a toe dig into the meat of his back. “Come back up here a minute.”

“Why?”

He looks up just in time to catch Hongjoong grinning at him with his perfectly straight teeth biting into his plush bottom lip. Yunho’s mouth instantly goes dry at the visual, jesus christ.

“Let me paint your nails.”

Yunho sits up just enough to place his chin on Hongjoong’s knee from his seat on the floor. “You can paint one.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

“Fine, just one. It’ll be payback for when you go squealing to Seonghwa later.”

Yunho fake gasps, hand to his heart. “I would never!”

“Yes you fucking would, you can’t lie to me, snake.” Hongjoong makes grabby hands for one of Yunho’s. “Gimme.” 

It should be illegal for someone to be so cute and so aggressively attractive at the same time, Yunho is pretty sure he’s going to start developing whiplash just from being in his presence. He lifts a hand up in sacrifice so he doesn’t have to think about it. Hongjoong grins, nose scrunched adorably, and paints a big black stripe down the middle of Yunho’s first finger, forgoing the base coat since Yunho is pretty sure Hongjoong knows he’s just going to scratch it off without thinking later.

Once done, Hongjoong makes a show of waving Yunho’s hand back and forth with an exaggerated look of concentration on his face. Yunho can only clutch the couch cushion tighter against his body to stifle the too loud laughter that threatens to overtake him.

“Alright, alright you’re free to go.” Hongjoong twists the cap to the black polish, fingers curving awkwardly like he’s still afraid his dry nails are going to smudge everywhere. Yunho hums, head still resting on his hyung’s knee who indulgently runs a finger sweetly through the hair falling over his forehead. “I could probably use a nap now anyway.”

Yunho’s breath catches, a terrible idea zinging through him like lightning. He closes his eyes so he won’t have to see what kind of expression Hongjoong makes and - “Me too, come take one with me.”

The fingers gently playing with his bangs pause in their movements. Yunho prays his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel. “It is a proven fact that cuddling helps you attain more restful sleep.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

The apartment goes silent again. Yunho cracks an eye open to watch the indecision go to war with... _something_ on Hongjoong’s face. “Okay.”

They eventually stumble into the room Hongjoong shares with Seonghwa and Yunho makes a beeline for the bed decorated in minion merch. He’ll never really understand why his hyung likes the things so much, but whatever makes him happy—besides he doesn’t really have any room to talk, his own bed is littered with Harry Potter trinkets and countless video game boxes.

Yunho wiggles around like an excited puppy until he’s managed to finagle himself underneath the comforter, pats the space next to him in invitation. “Nap time, hurry up.” 

Hongjoong laughs, walks over at a much more sedated pace to join him on the bed. “Anyone ever tell you you have too much energy?”

“Yes,” Yunho grabs at Hongjoong’s waist so he can wrestle his hyung down far enough to throw a leg over his hips, a bit like an octopus holding its prey, and tucks the edge of the comforter securely around Hongjoong’s slight frame. “But I’m running low and the only way to recharge is cuddles.”

Hongjoong snorts but indulges him with an arm slung haphazardly across his waist to bring them just the tiniest bit closer together, tucks his cold nose against Yunho’s sensitive neck. He has to try not to flinch too hard when Hongjoong’s fingers scrape barely hard enough to tickle against his ribs.

Hongjoong must have been more exhausted than he let on as his breathing is already evening out in sleep. Yunho just takes the opportunity to bask in his presence and take comfort in the proximity. Their leader is always up late working on music or running interference with the company managers so the rest of them can get a few extra minutes of sleep, it’s nice to see him fully relaxed. Unfortunately, Hongjoong doesn’t necessarily enjoy skinship while he’s home so Yunho wants to take in as much of this moment as he can, wants to jealously hoard it for himself while no one is around to interrupt.

  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Yunho wakes up disoriented sometime later at the sound of several doors opening and closing at once. There’s a line of heat against his back he doesn’t remember being present before and an arm tucked securely around his waist, fingers splayed underneath his shirt just barely grazing the dip of his navel. 

It takes him a moment to realize three things: a.) he’s not in his room, b.) Hongjoong is still peacefully snoring away spooned behind him and, most importantly,  c.) there is a hard dick nestled in the crack of his ass. He can feel it pressing in through his goddamn _jeans_.

Ordinarily that wouldn’t be a problem since he lives with seven other guys and awkward boners are part and parcel to being forced into close quarters all the time. However, they’re usually quietly taken care out of sight and aren’t unceremoniously shoved into someone else’s personal bubble like this.

They aren’t usually attached to Kim Hongjoong.

They sure as shit aren’t usually attached to Kim Hongjoong, still asleep and murmuring softly into his fucking _neck_ and giving Yunho fucking _goosebumps_ while his own cock decides to join in the fucking party.

It feels like someone is holding a blowtorch to his face with how fast it heats up, no doubt he resembles a very sweaty, very panicky tomato.

Yunho doesn’t know exactly what his hyung is dreaming about but it must be...well, nice isn’t _quite_ the word he wants to use but is the most apt. He has to bite into his fist to keep from making an inappropriate noise when Hongjoong subtly shifts his hips tighter against him and places a sleepy kiss to the nape of his neck where hairline meets skin—just a barely there whisper of pressure.

Thankfully the moment is ruined when Seonghwa barges into the room to announce the managers had bought everyone chicken and to “wake the fuck up before Jongho eats everything!” Yunho has to slam his eyes closed, feigning sleep, when Hongjoong jerks awake behind him with a slurred “whuzzat?” followed by a slew of curses as he shifts his lower body away.

Perversely, Yunho kind of misses it.

“Oh ho,” Seonghwa crows in the doorway. “What have we here?” 

Yunho keeps absolutely, incredibly still and hears Hongjoong making frantic shushing noises behind him, whispering harshly, “Shut the fuck up, he’s still asleep!”

“Whatever, just get in there before Jongho eats us out of house and home.” There’s a ringing silence for a moment before Seonghwa starts snickering like a two year old. “Looks like you’re already pretty ‘up’ though, huh.”

There’s a soft thump that Yunho is fairly sure is a plush doll being thrown at the door. “Go away, oh my _god_.”

Seonghwa must have left if the loud breath Hongjoong releases is anything to go by. A hand gently brushes away some hair that had fallen into his eyes, even more gently pokes into his cheek. “Yunho…”

He does his best to keep the appearance of sleep. If it means having Hongjoong croon sweetly into his ear, Yunho can stay like this forever. Or, well, until Hongjoong starts smacking at his face like an absolute dickhead. “Yunho-yah!”

To escape, and to bide himself a little time to get his own ‘problem’ under control, Yunho just grumbles and pulls the comforter higher over his head, “Five more minutes.”

“Nope!” ‘P’ popped obnoxiously loud in his ear. “If I have to get up, then so do you, friendo.”

Yunho finally relents and rolls over to glare at Hongjoong without heat. “I hate you.”

Hongjoong just grins, wild and unrepentant. “No you don’t.”

No, Yunho agrees in his head, I really don’t.

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

The next day presents Yunho with the perfect opportunity to weasel information out of one Park Seonghwa.

They’ve just gotten home from practice at the main building and Hongjoong had opted to stay back to get a project finished in the studio. Seonghwa is playing some kind of game on his phone in their living room, so Yunho gets out the bag of chips he’d snuck from a vending machine earlier in the day, hides it behind his back. He’s not going to say it’s a bribe but…

It’s totally a bribe. 

“Hey, hyung,” Yunho rocks up to stand in front of Seonghwa until he looks up from whatever he’s playing. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Shoot.”

“Remember the other day when you told me Hongjoong-hyung got all,” Yunho doesn’t want to say ‘drooly’ so he just gestures vaguely at his own face, “over a guy taking his shirt off?”

Seonghwa throws his phone to a cushion next to himself on the couch and leans forward with a kind of terrifyingly predatory look on his face. “Yes. Why.”

“Uh, can you tell me who it was?”

Seonghwa steeples his fingers in front of his face like a bad rendition of a cartoon villain, Yunho has to actually bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing at him. “Information like that will cost you, young man.”

Yunho reveals his ill-gotten goods. “I can offer you a bag of your favorite chips and the eternal love of your most beloved dongsaeng.”

Seonghwa leans back against the couch and waves him off. “I can get chips any time and Yeosang already loves me. Next.”

“Wha—” Yunho gapes at him. They joke about favorites all the time, but you don’t just _say_ it outright like that. There is such a thing as common courtesy, what the hell.

“₩500,000.”

“Excuse me?”

“₩500,000, either in my hand or direct deposited into my account and I’ll tell you who Hongjoong wants to bone.” Seonghwa smugly examines the end of his nails.

Yunho honest to god thought this would be an easy exchange of goods and services. If it weren’t for the fact that Seonghwa has life-changing information dangling over his head, Yunho definitely would have just rolled his eyes and walked away by now.

As it stands, though, Yunho gives his best puppy eyes accompanied by a wobbly pout. “Why can’t you just give me a name? I don’t have that kind of money and neither do you.”

“Exactly, that’s why it’s my price.”

Yunho doesn’t stomp his foot like a toddler, but give him five minutes and he might. “Hyung, come on, seriously.”

“Nope,” Seonghwa picks his phone back up to start fiddling with a game. “Figure it out for yourself.”

“But...you’re the only other person who knows and Hongjoong won’t tell me.”

For whatever reason, Seonghwa clamps his lips into a thin line, shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Yunho drops down to his knees to shuffle forward and pout aggressively into Seonghwa’s lap. He can tell his hyung is about to give in by the way his mouth is twitching so he ups the ante, rubs his palms together in supplication.

“Ugh, fine,” Seonghwa shoves a hand into his face to get Yunho to back up. “I can’t give you a name, but, tell you what, hand me those chips and I’ll give you a hint.”

Yunho pumps a fist in victory. “Deal, but only if the hint isn’t that the guy is taller than he is, Hongjoong already gave me that one.”

“He would,” Seonghwa purses his lips, tilts his head to think a moment. “I promise it will be a big hint, now hand me the chips.”

Yunho hands the bargaining chip (hah!) over and laughs as his hyung eagerly rips the bag open in his lap.

Through a mouth full of crispy potato-y goodness, Seonghwa manages to get out, “He’s a really good dancer.”

“Everyone we hang out with is a really good dancer!”

“Yep.”

Yunho groans and faceplants dramatically into the carpeted floor. Oh, right, he was supposed to bring up cleaning this fuzzy nightmare. “How am I supposed to figure out who it is from that?”

“Not my problem, now is it?” Seonghwa crunches on another handful of chips. “You have two hints, work it out for yourself.”

Asshole.

He should have saved his money and bought a better bribe. Seonghwa might not reveal Hongjoong’s love interest for chips but Yunho would bet his left testicle he’d give up that information for a closeup fancam of Yeosang’s ass. Maybe he could sneakily film his bandmate later as blackmail?

No, Yunho thinks.

Too messy.

“By the way,” Seonghwa calls out. “I’m pretty sure Mingi knows who it is too.”

The room goes silent save for the low sound of Seonghwa’s chewing.

“What?!”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Mingi is actually spending the weekend away from the dorm to enjoy time with his parents, so Yunho shoots him a text of ‘you’re telling me who hongjoong is interested in immediately’; to which Mingi replies with a snap of himself obnoxiously picking his nose using a pinky, caption reading ‘mars said no’.

His phone doesn’t go flying against the nearest wall in frustration but it’s a near thing.

Instead, Yunho spends the weekend playing his new game, plotting ways to make his best friend talk, and coercing Hongjoong into going to get food together—he was seriously weirded out by how small Hongjoong’s wrists seemed the other day and Yunho was fairly certain it wasn’t just because his own fingers were long.

Yunho pounces the second Mingi walks through the door of his room.

“Mingi-Mingi,” Yunho croons sweetly into his best friend’s ear. “Tell me who it is.”

Yunho can’t see his face from where he’s clinging to Minigi’s back but he knows the rapper is rolling his eyes like a dickhole. “If Seonghwa-hyung didn’t tell you then I’m not going to either.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fun otherwise, obviously.” Mingi is trying to get an arm around to smack at Yunho’s back but he just dances out of the way, still clinging like a monkey to Mingi’s neck. In retaliation, Mingi swings around so they land on the nearest bed almost knocking the air out of Yunho’s lungs.

“You’re an asshole.”

Mingi gives a very fake, very obnoxious shocked gasp. “Takes one to know one, sugarplum.”

Yunho starts playfully smacking at Mingi’s chest, grapples with him until they fall off the bed in a big heap of tangled limbs which, if anyone decided to look in, would very much come off as the two of them about to start boning down in the middle of the dorm floor.

Just as Yunho’s going for a titty-twister, Hongjoong decides to knock briefly on the still open door and peak his head in to ask, “Mingi-yah can I get your help with—oh.”

He pauses in the doorway staring at them with a weird expression on his face that Yunho can’t quite decipher. Probably just annoyed they’re making so much noise again.

“Ah, nevermind, I’ll ask when you’re not so busy. Have fun, bye!” Hongjoong makes a hasty exit, Yunho can hear his footsteps disappear rapidly down the hallway back to his own shared room.

He blinks.

“What was that about?”

Mingi snorts and goes about getting his arms back from where they’re pinned underneath Yunho’s back. “Figure it out, dumbass.”

“Hey!”

Mingi helps him up from his prone position on the floor. “Seriously, you’re not this stupid.”

“I never said I was but thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Mingi regards him in silence a moment as Yunho brushes the lint from his shirt. “Ask Jongho.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah,” Mingi starts laughing. “He’s the one who figured it out first.”

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

“Jongho-yaaaahhh,” Yunho singsongs into the door of the work room. “Open the door, it’s your favorite hyung~” 

Jongho cracks the door just enough for Yunho to see the tired circles dragging underneath the maknae’s eyes, a pang of protectiveness born of brotherhood overtakes him. “Yah, you don’t look so good, kiddo.”

“Fuck off, I’m not a kid.” Jongho frowns at him. “You’re _barely_ a year older than me. What do you want? If it’s another apple breaking video, save it for tomorrow I’m too tired right now.”

“Can’t a hyung come visit his favorite dongsaeng-ie while he’s working so hard?” Yunho coos.

“No.”

Yunho places a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Brat.”

Jongho sticks his tongue out but opens the door wide enough to allow Yunho entrance. The room is setup with a new keyboard and what looks to be several new microphones in various stages of use—one is on the floor next to a bottle full of uncooked rice.

His dongsaeng flops down hard into the squeaky office chair. “Seriously what’s up? You’re usually in the dance studio instead of bothering me.”

“Ahhh, well about that I uh—” Yunho fidgets, twiddles his thumbs together so he can arrange his thoughts. A hyung _really_ shouldn’t come to a younger member for advice like this.

Then again, members of a band shouldn’t be hiding secrets from each other either.

“Spit it out, hyung.”

“Okay, look,” Jongho cocks his eyebrows at him, waiting. “I just need to ask you this one thing but it’s got to be kept a secret between us.”

“Sure, hyung.” Jongho grins at him. He looks extremely sneaky and Yunho immediately fucking distrusts him.

“So I just—I found out a thing,” Yunho blows out a breath. “But Hongjoong wouldn’t give me any useful information? Seonghwa was the same way, he told me Mingi knew but then _Mingi_ wouldn’t tell me anything, that _asshole—_ he’s supposed to be my best friend, you think you know a guy, right? And—”

Jongho very slowly, very carefully pinches Yunho’s lips together. “Holy hell, hyung, I am too tired for this today. Get. To. The. Point.”

Yunho rubs at his mouth when Jongho finally releases him. One of these days he’s going to kick this group to the curb for the constant disrespect. 

Well, everyone except Hongjoong.

And maybe Shiber.

“Do you know who it is that Hongjoong likes?”

Jongho stares at him for a beat before he starts laughing hysterically, even loses his breath halfway through so it comes out like deranged wheezing. “I’m—this is amazing.” Yunho pouts while Jongho wipes tears from his face. “Shut the door.”

Yunho does, only because he knows anyone could walk by and be privy to sensitive information he’s pretty sure Hongjoong would very much appreciate not leave the confines of these four walls.

“First, let me ask you this,” Jongho starts after finally regaining his breath. “Why do you want to know?”

Shit. Fuck.

“Because he’s my hyung and I want to help?”

“Uh huh,” Jongho deadpans. “And what’s the actual reason.”

Yunho grits his teeth, unwilling to admit why the curiosity is a burning hole in his chest. Saying it out loud will make everything too...real. He was doing just fine acknowledging the reason quietly to himself.

Jongho gently pats at Yunho’s leg. “Come on, hyung. It’s just you and me in here, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Promise?”

Jongho holds up a pinky. “I promise.”

Yunho wavers but eventually hooks the two together. “I just...want to know.”

“Becaaaaause?” Jongho scoots closer, waves both arms like he’s trying to coax more out of him.

Yunho breathes in deep, holds it, and releases it in one huge gust. “Because I have a really embarrassing crush on him.”

“There we go,” Jongho leans back in his chair, smug. “Took you long enough.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hyung, no offense? But literally the only person who doesn’t know you want to take Hongjoong on dates and bring him flowers at midnight or whatever is Hongjoong.”

Yunho goes absolutely still, centimeter by tiny centimeter he can almost physically feel the blood in his veins turn to ice.

“You’re kidding me.”

Jongho spins his chair around cackling like he’s at the best comedy show in town. “Nope!”

Yunho whines loud and drops his head into his hands to hide his face—even showing it to his disrespectful dongsaeng suddenly feels like too much. Yunho barely manages to whimper out,  “I’m moving to Siberia.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Jongho pokes him in the thigh again. “However, for your bravery I will reward you with one more hint of who it is.”

“Are you kidding me?! I spill my guts to you and you’re just going to give me a hint?” Jongho nods at him, grin maniacal. “Just tell me who it is!”

“Aw, but that’s no fun. Besides everyone else is only giving hints,” Jongho places a hand to his chin like he’s in deep thought. “You can treat it like a scavenger hunt.”

“I hate all of you.”

“Please, you love us,” Jongho starts wiggling his eyebrows greasily—hoe don’t do it, Yunho thinks viciously—“Especially Kim Hongjoong.”

 _Ugh_.

“Just give me the hint so I can leave and pretend this never happened.”

Jongho pouts at him. “You’re no fun.” He turns back to the keyboard in front of him to rip a clean page from his composition notebook, quickly scribbles something down, and hands it over.

Yunho takes the page, confused, all that’s on it is a crudely drawn lightning symbol. “What is this?”

“It’s a clue!”

“It’s...a drawing.”

“A clue,” Jongho insists. “A _lightning bolt_ clue.” 

Yunho frowns down at the offending piece of paper. “How is this in any way a clue? It’s just a symbol, that tells me nothing.”

Jongho smiles enigmatically from his chair. “Well it’s what you’re getting. Go ask Yeosang-hyung if you want another hint.”

Wait, Yeosang knows who it is too? What the actual, literal fuck is happening here.

“Seriously, does everyone know who it is but me?”

“Probably.” Jongho fiddles with the microphone attached to the stand on the keyboard a moment. “Though to be fair, I think San and Wooyoung are too busy playing grab ass games to figure it out either. Now get out, I have to record some things for Eden-sunbaenim to look at later.”

“Fine,” Yunho gets up, makes a point to ruffle the younger man’s hair until it’s standing on end from static on his way out. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Jongho.”

“Yes, yes.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

They’ve been practicing this one step sequence for what feels like ten billion hours and Yunho is extremely close to pulling his hair out in frustration. It’s relatively early into the day but even San—literal fountain of happiness and all things good in the world—is frowning hard at the tumble of bodies in the mirror. Wooyoung trips and falls on the last beat, not hard but enough to knock the wind from his lungs; Mingi and San immediately dead drop in their place as a show of solidarity.

Hongjoong finally, blessedly, takes mercy on them by turning off the sound system.

Sweet relief floods through his system so Yunho decides to flop down next to Mingi and rolls his sweaty forehead into his best friend’s shirt. Mingi swipes a nasty wet hand down his face in retaliation and, oh boy, it is _on_. Yunho playfully starts tugging on Mingi’s ears while Mingi, the absolute madman, decides to bite down on Yunho’s fucking _arm_.

Hongjoong pointedly clears his throat and claps his hands together to get the room’s attention. “Okay, everyone, good work! I think we’ve made a decent amount of progress today. We’ve got an early filming schedule tomorrow, but one of our managers decided to gift us with,” Hongjoong singsongs an adorable ‘ba-ba-ba-bam’ and flourishes a handful of what look to be food vouchers. “Ice cream! Or, well, the coupons for ice cream.”

San and Wooyoung start cheering, apparently retained enough energy to start jumping up and down while holding hands in excitement. Yunho would normally join in except Hongjoong is making that one fond face that Yunho is physically incapable of looking away from, so he just pats his hand to his face to make sure no drool has escaped.

“When do they expire?” Seonghwa asks from the other side of the room, Yeosang flapping his shirt to help cool him off.

Hongjoong flips one over, “Aaah, looks like they’re good from now until friday of next week.” 

Wooyoung throws an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders, “We should go together as a group! Doesn’t this shop have an arcade attached to it?”

San, still bouncing in place, excitedly says, “Yunho, we should play that punching bag game. I need to see if we can beat the maknae’s high score.”

Jongho makes a disbelieving noise from his position lying facedown on the floor. Yunho finally leaves the relative comfort of solid ground to sit up and stretch, “Sure, sounds good to me.”

Seonghwa and Yeosang, now leaning against each other like they’re ten seconds away from falling asleep standing up, both decide to go another time. Jongho waves off the offer, “I just want to take a nap, honestly. Vocal practice starts in like three hours.”

San has decided to drape himself on Hongjoong’s other side, “Hyung, you’re going to come with us, right? I’m pretty sure you are contractually obligated to provide adult supervision.”

“Yeah, hyung,” Wooyoung coos, rocking Hongjoong between the two of them now, “And you haven’t taken a break in ages.”

Yunho kind of feels like he’s witnessing a cult trying to recruit a new member. Hongjoong is hiding his mouth behind the collar of his shirt to stifle his laughter at their antics, his eyes scrunched so tight in affection Yunho feels like his own heart is going to burst.  “Fine, you devils.”

Wooyoung and San start screaming together again and let go of Hongjoong to do some kind of ridiculously complicated handshake. It ends in a loud butt slap they both start crying over, Yunho wants to disown them immediately.

Of course, Yunho was so busy watching Thing 1 and Thing 2 interact he totally misses Hongjoong making his way to where he and Mingi are still sprawled out. “Mingi-yah, you coming?” 

“Pass,” Mingi yawns. “I like Jongho’s idea of sleep.”

“Ah?” Hongjoong looks confused, eyes darting between Mingi—still prone on the ground—and himself. “But Yunho is coming with us?”

God, he’s so pretty even covered in sweat. Yunho’s brain is officially a pile of mush, he can feel the dopey grin making camp on his face.

“So?” Mingi finally stands up with a groan, his back making a worrying cracking noise. “I don’t have to be around him every moment of every day do I?”

“Well, no, but—”

“There you go. I’m gonna go take a nap with my roommate, you guys have fun.” Mingi blows the room an exaggerated kiss, pushes an exhausted Jongho to the hallway, the sound of their affectionate bickering carrying until the practice room door finally swings shut.

Yunho frowns, something about that entire exchange had felt... _off_ , somehow.

He’s probably just overthinking it like always so Yunho puts the thought to the back of his mind. If it was really important, then Mingi or Hongjoong would clue him in; for now all he wants to do is stare dreamily at Hongjoong’s adam’s apple—prominent from his vantage point here on the floor.

“Hongjoong-hyung,” Yunho calls in his squeakiest aegyo to get the leader’s attention since Hongjoong is busy glaring at the door. It works surprisingly well, Hongjoong’s mullet actually flicks in his face a little bit with how fast his head whips in Yunho’s direction.

“Yeah?”

“I need help up, my legs are useless.” Yunho gives his best puppyeyed pout and makes grabby hands for Hongjoong who snorts good naturedly at him.

“You big baby,” Hongjoong indulges in grabbing Yunho’s outstretched hands to ‘help’ him get up, small giggles escaping when they stumble into each other. Seonghwa makes fake gagging noises behind them, Yunho is pretty sure the sound of Hongjoong rolling his eyes carries across the hall.

“Anyway,” Hongjoong turns back to the others in the room—Yeosang, San and Wooyoung caught red-handed making crude drawings on the practice room whiteboard. Hongjoong smiles serenely at them. “You three can get this room spotless,” San starts whining at him. “Nope, don’t want to hear it San-ie, I saw you draw that ballsack—"

“It’s a heart!”

“San, that ‘heart’,” Hongjoong finger quotes, “has pubes all over it.”

Choi San, the very picture of innocence, just retorts, “Those are love lines, hyung.”

Yunho hides his face in Hongjoong’s back and bites his fist to stop from full body laughing. Hongjoong unexpectedly puts a hand behind his back to tickle into Yunho’s waist and he is powerless to stop the unattractive donkey laugh that comes tumbling out. It’s a good thing he’s too busy laughing or else Yunho would be _mortified_.  

“You two are so gross,” Yunho can’t see him through his tears but Seonghwa has that patented ‘I’m judging all of you so hard right now’ tone - most likely referring to San and Wooyoung’s fascination with drawing dicks everywhere.

Hongjoong huffs, obviously put out, “Just get this room clean so we can go home and shower. I’m not getting ice cream sweaty.”

Yunho joins in with the ‘Aye Aye Captain!’ the idiot triplets yell out complete with heel click and over exaggerated salute.

Hongjoong, in retaliation, just turns back to tickle Yunho until he threatens to piss his pants.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Yunho is participating in a mostly silent dance off, to be courteous to the napping members, with Wooyoung when Hongjoong rounds the corner - freshly showered and wearing the fluffiest, most oversized sweater he owns. Yunho is so distracted by the visual that he, somehow, manages to trip over his own goddamn feet and narrowly misses slamming headfirst into their coffee table.

Wooyoung points at him, doubles over laughing so loud San lovingly smothers his face in a blanket. 

Yunho groans in pain from his position on the floor. Hongjoong rushes over to check the back of his head on the off chance Yunho has _actually_ given himself a concussion. “Yunho, are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Yunho grabs the three fingers Hongjoong presents, more to get them out of his face before he starts blushing like a lunatic over the sight of Hongjoong’s dainty digits than anything else, “I’m fine, hyung. I think San is about to seriously suffocate Wooyoung though, you might wanna stop ‘em.”

“Oh no,” Hongjoong deadpans, “That sounds terrible. A travesty.”

Yunho can’t keep back the laughter at his hyung’s monotone delivery, grip still tight on Hongjoong’s hand who decides to twist their fingers together for a better grip. Yunho basks in the warmth that blooms in his chest from that one point of contact.

“I heard that, hyung.” Wooyoung gripes, finally managing to get San to stop trying to stuff blanket up his nostrils. “You’re supposed to love us, what gives?”

“Yeah!” San chimes in, adjusting his beret from where Wooyoung had smacked it off kilter.

“I’m taking you all to ice cream, aren’t I?”

“The managers got us those vouchers so that doesn’t count,” San takes two long strides across the room to squat down and stares pointedly at Yunho and Hongjoong’s hands. “And you only share skinship with Yunho when we’re home, quit playing favorites.”

Yunho pouts when Hongjoong releases their hands lightning quick, viciously hopes San eats too fast and gets the world’s worst brain freeze. He revels in the revenge fantasy for a moment before zoning back in to notice Hongjoong’s ears are turning an adorable shade of pink.

It’s so cute Yunho has to quietly mime clutching his chest from faux heart palpitations.

“Whatever, let’s just get going before we wake up Jongho.”

They finally make their way to the ice cream parlor slash arcade not too long afterwards, Yeosang waving them goodbye with a mouth full of reheated tteokbokki. Hongjoong and Wooyoung are in front of them in deep discussion over the newest choreo, pausing briefly every once in a while to demonstrate a step they’re thinking of adjusting. San is swinging his and Yunho’s hands together and babbling about... _something,_ Yunho isn’t sure, too busy looking out at the world and enjoying the company. He wonders how much longer they’ll be able to just leave the dorm without a security detail or a manager in tow, if they’ll ever get to the level of success where they need to constantly be vigilant for excitable sasaengs.

San waves a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Yunho? Where’d you go, puppy?”

“Oh, sorry,” Yunho blinks himself back to the present. “What were you talking about?”

San gives him a sly look. “Daydreaming about you-know-who again I see. Understandable, the sweaterpaws are very distracting.”

God, he’d been doing so good not thinking about them. Yunho whines, “I can’t believe everyone knows except him.”

San makes a low noise in agreement. “Obvious things are usually overlooked by the oblivious.” His gaze is locked unerringly on Wooyoung’s back.

“Are you two…?”

“No.” San sighs, goes back to swinging their hands a little childishly back and forth. “We’ve fooled around a few times,” Yunho crinkles his nose. TMI. “But I don’t think he’s ready for anything else. It’s okay though, we’ll either get there or we won’t; he’s my best friend so it’s not like dating or not dating will change anything.”

“That’s really mature of you, San-ie.”

“Thank you,” San replies, dry. “How’s the scavenger hunt going, by the way? Seonghwa told me everyone is giving hints about hyung’s...guy.”

“Oh, that,” Yunho feels his mood deflate. “Would it be bad to admit I kind of don’t want to know who it is?”

“Why?”

“Because I,” Yunho scrubs his other hand down his face. “I don’t want to think about hyung dating someone, I don’t know. It hurts to think about.”

San whistles out a long note. “Oh man, you’re in deep.”

“Yeah,” Yunho frowns down miserably at his shoelaces. “This sucks.”

San is silent for a beat watching their companions do some kind of weird wiggling knee movement. “If it makes you feel any better, the guy he’s into is a total space case. I doubt he’ll realize hyung likes him anyway.”

“Mmm,” Yunho’s chest clenches tight at the information—one more piece to the puzzle he’s not sure he wants to solve anymore.

It doesn’t make him feel better at all.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

The shop is cold, colder than it is outside though probably to be expected seeing as it _is_ an ice cream parlor. Yunho huddles close to Hongjoong and Wooyoung who were both smart enough to wear thick sleeves. “I’m never going to stop shivering.”

San, equally short of sleeve, is apparently impervious to the elements. “Sucks to suck, bitchboy. A _man_ doesn’t _feel_ cold.” Yunho makes an offended noise while Wooyoung laughs, horks chocolate syrup down the wrong pipe and chokes.

Serves him right.

Hongjoong gives Yunho a sympathetic pat on the thigh and benevolently drops a stemmed cherry from his own vanilla sundae into Yunho’s tower of strawberry and mint, “For strength.”

The four of them bicker good naturedly back and forth up until Hongjoong manages to drip vanilla down his chin and spends a ridiculously unfair amount of time trying to get all of it with his tongue instead of just wiping it off with a napkin like a normal person. Yunho has to zone out in self defense because _holy god in heaven_.

Hongjoong’s got white on his chin and on his mouth and his fucking _tongue_ is stretched out like he’s trying to catch more. White noise fills his ears, thoughts a long flatline of ‘fuuuuuuuuuuuuck’,  until San—beautiful, blessed San—simultaneously throws a napkin in Hongjoong’s face, “Hyung, seriously that’s gross, put your tongue back in your mouth” and kicks a toe hard into Yunho’s shin to snap him out of it.

“I still think strawberry and mint is a weird combo.” Wooyoung wrinkles his nose.

“You’re a weird combo,” Yunho sticks his tongue out.

Hongjoong leans his face into his hands, “ _Children_ , please.”

“Sorry, dad.” Wooyoung snickers, Yunho bites the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing himself.

“Don’t call me dad, fuckhead.”

San flutters his eyelashes at Hongjoong, “What about daddy?”

Hongjoong hisses like a cat sprayed with water, “Fuck no, it’s hyung or nothing. Why are you like this, who raised you?”

“Mostly Seonghwa,” and in saying so San plops his last spoonful into his mouth.

Yunho finally loses his willpower to remain silent and starts cackling into his bowl of mostly melted ice cream, Hongjoong playfully bats the arm closest to him for his insolence.

San and Wooyoung, bloodstreams full of sugar and the excitability of youth, decide to spend the rest of their allotted free time destroying each other in a 1v1 combat simulator while Hongjoong opts instead to start back to the dorms. Yunho wavers for only a moment before San gently nudges him in Hongjoong’s direction. “Go, have some alone time with him, you’re not going to get many chances.”

So he ends up playing follow the leader, Hongjoong glancing up at him when Yunho links their arms together, “Gotta have a buddy when crossing the street, hyung.”

Hongjoong nods in agreement, serious, and proceeds to swing their arms around like an overactive _toddler_. They stumble together down the street, ignoring the clucking of a gaggle of ahjummas in their friday night best and a furtive looking man clad in a greasy sweatshirt.

Yunho’s arm gets tired from the constant crooked position so he entwines their hands together instead—pats himself metaphorically on the back for his bravery.

Hongjoong clears his throat, “So, ah, how’s Mingi doing?”

“Fine? We just saw him, like, an hour and a half ago, hyung.”

“No, I mean,” Hongjoong chews on a nail, a nervous habit he’d gained in the last year, “How are _you and Mingi_ doing?”

Yunho blinks. What?

Hongjoong puts a weird emphasis on the ‘you and Mingi’ but Yunho is pretty sure it’s about the play fight he walked in on. “Aw, hyung, we’re fine. If this is about the other day, you just walked in at an awkward moment that was all.”

“Right,” Hongjoong visibly deflates, he looks suddenly miserable and Yunho has no idea why. “Sorry, but, I think I’m going to get some work done in the studio instead of going home. You go on ahead.”

“Oh, um, sure?” Hongjoong gives him a wobbly smile, Yunho keeps hold of his hand before Hongjoong can walk away. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m _fine_ , Yunho,” Hongjoong frees his fingers from Yunho’s grip. “I just need to get some stuff out of my head. Be safe getting home.”

Yunho watches him walk away—tiny frame getting smaller and smaller in the distance—feeling slow and stupid, like they’ve been having two separate conversations and neither one of them made sense.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Jongho pulls him aside and out of the practice room while everyone is taking a break to rehydrate.

“Why is Hongjoong-hyung writing shitty breakup songs,” The maknae’s hands are a tight grip on the collar of his shirt. “What did you _do_?”

Yunho flinches at the harsh tone. “What, why do you think I have anything to do with it?”

“Seriously,” Jongho scoffs at him, mouth an unhappy line.

“Yes?” He can hear the fibers of his shirt screaming from Jongho’s tight grip “Maybe the guy he likes turned him down or started dating someone else, I honest to god do not know. Let go of me.”

Jongho purses his lips in annoyance, “Are we still playing that game? Figure it the fuck out, if I have to sing another sad guide for Hongjoong-hyung I am literally going to shrink every single article of clothing you own,” and releases his grip so he can fold his arms akimbo.

Yunho frowns back at him and rubs at the area of stretched fabric. “I’m not sure what you want me to do. San or Mingi would probably do a better job at cheering up hyung than I would.”

Jongho rolls his eyes and scrubs a hand down his face. “Hyung, I love you but I am really goddamn close to smacking you upside the head.”

“Jesus, why are you so aggressive!”

Jongho glares down at the floor in silence. Yunho is debating sliding back to the practice hall when the youngest finally speaks up, “I really admire Hongjoong-hyung. Seeing him unhappy makes me really...I just can’t stand it.”

“Are you—are you _crying_?”

“No,” Jongho denies but sniffs loud, face flushed an ugly blotchy red. Their maknae might be a brat, but he’s hardworking and obviously loves the members of this band like they were blood related and it shows. Yunho envelopes him in a hug and swings them around until Jongho finally laughs  and calls for him to stop.

“Jongho-yah,” He croons, “Hyung will take care of everything, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

He’s going to try, anyway.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

“No.”

“But Yeosang!”

“Absolutely not, no, no way.”

Yunho glares at him with hands on his hips. Yeosang continues to ignore Yunho’s posturing in favor of affixing a third propeller to his latest drone-child. “Look, besides Wooyoung, you’re the only person I haven’t asked yet." 

“Good for you,” Yeosang squints at a sheet of instructions. “Still not going to give you a clue.”

“Yeosang-ie,” Yunho cries, “Why are you so mean to me?”

“Is your name Park Seonghwa?”

“Obviously not.”

Yeosang throws a one shouldered shrug as if to say ‘there you go, there’s your answer.’ Quickly, before Yeosang can react, Yunho manages to nab a handful of parts that had been spread out on the bed he’s sitting on.

“Hey, I need those!”

Yunho holds the pieces aloft, victorious. “You can get them back when you give me my hint.”

“Fine.” Yeosang gives him a steely eyed look. “Tell me the clues you already have first.”

Yunho lists them off. He kind of wishes he still had the drawing Jongho had made because it was so ridiculous someone else needed to witness it; but alas.

“I see,” Yeosang pauses as if gathering his thoughts. “And you still don’t know who it is from these?”

Yunho shakes his head. Yeosang purses his lips, eyes much more fond now and pats the space beside him in invitation. “How about making an educated guess, mm?”

If he’s honest, Yunho hasn’t been trying to think in specifics as much as just the nebulous _idea_ of a person Hongjoong would maybe possibly want to fuck. “At first I thought it was Eden-sunbaenim but I can’t imagine him taking his shirt off in front of anyone? There was a makeup hyung he was talking to not that long ago...”

Yeosang hums and brings a hand to rub at the depressed slump of Yunho’s back. “I think you’re missing the most obvious solution.”

Finally relinquishing the pieces of almost drone, Yunho leans into Yeosang arms. “What’s that?”

“Did you think, maybe, the person he likes could be one of us?”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Yunho tumbles into his bed after leaving Yeosang to his new toy and rolls himself in his blankets until he’s a certified Yunho shaped burrito.

The new information has his head pounding and his eyes bleary—all of the clues the members had given him and, what, someone who knew about Yunho’s mancrush decided to flaunt their luck of having Hongjoong to themself? Who would be mean enough to do that to him?

He knows it’s not San or Wooyoung, they’re both too obsessed with each other for anyone else to factor in that equation. Yeosang and Seonghwa were pretty much in the same boat even if neither of them admitted to anything, so both of them were out of the running. Yunho highly doubted it was Jongho, especially after the breakdown outside their practice room the other day, which leaves…

Mingi.

Tall, a good dancer, spaces out a lot, Yunho doesn’t know where _exactly_ the lightning bolt drawing from Jongho fits in but everything else checks out.

It’s been Mingi this whole time.

The revelation feels about what he’d expect getting punched in the liver to be like: all encompassing pain followed by a hollow ache. It all makes sense now. Hongjoong asking about Mingi, getting the wrong idea about them wrestling on the floor of Mingi’s room—where Hongjoong had specifically poked his head in on Mingi’s return home, the sad profile he made when Yunho said the two of them were ‘fine’.

He feels stupid and used. Worst of all, he feels betrayed by his best friend. Yunho thought, after so much time spent together, that Mingi would have given it to him straight about Hongjoong’s feelings instead of sending him on this ridiculous wild goose chase. It hurts.

He can’t blame Hongjoong, though. Mingi is awesome. Someday he might even be able to stomach the sight of the two of them together—their happiness fuels his happiness after all.

But, right now…

Right now Yunho just pulls the blankets tighter around himself and allows the first of many tears to soak into the sheets.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Hongjoong is away and Yunho is miserable.

They all need the downtime every once in a while but that doesn’t stop Yunho from missing him terribly, a gloomy cloud hovering over his head - it’s like he’s developed a seasonal affective disorder centered around a person instead of an actual weather condition. 

The dorm seems darker without Hongjoong’s presence to light up a room, even his new video game is a study in boredom so Yunho moves out to the living room to lie face down in the couch. He knows he’s moping like a lovesick fool but Yunho can’t seem to get himself to stop; thank god San is currently in the practice room with Yeosang or else he would be here trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Or pointing and laughing, it’s really 50/50 when it comes to Choi San.

When Hongjoong waved goodbye to everyone a few days ago, Yunho had tried to sit down and plan out the best way to approach his hyung about the alleged sad songwriting. All attempts so far had been fruitless; Jongho was still tight lipped on the subject and Hongjoong just avoided the topic entirely, even when Yunho had managed to bribe Yeosang into asking him directly, “Hyung, have you written any new songs lately?”

To make matters worse, it seemed like every time Hongjoong walked in to see Yunho and Mingi goofing around in the dorm or for a vlive he’d just turn on a heel and leave.

Yunho wants to fucking _cry_.

The front door chimes as someone comes home, which Yunho steadfastly ignores in favor of trying to become one with the itchy fibers and _whatever else_ this couch was made of—probably carcinogenic _foam_ for all he knows. Yunho pretends he can feel the cotton molecules binding themselves into his flesh forever; it’s actually a pretty relaxing. Whoever it is pads into the room and pauses.

“Oh!”

As if a switch is flipped, Yunho immediately raises his head up; he would know that voice literally anywhere. If he were actually a puppy, like their fans like to compare him, Yunho is pretty sure his metaphorical tail would be wagging 90-to-nothing. Hongjoong is standing in the doorway of their living space, radiant, smiling fondly in Yunho’s direction wearing the white beanie Yunho bought him as a birthday present however many moons ago.

For the first time in days, the sun seems to have finally, finally broken through the clouds.

Yunho might _actually_ start crying, holy hell.

“Hyung! You’re back!”

Hongjoong giggles loud, obviously infected by Yunho’s own enthusiasm, and drops the large tote he’d been carrying to rummage through it. “I am _and_ I got you a gift.”

“Oooooh, what kind of gift?” Yunho can’t stop the giddy grin that sets up camp on his face, doesn’t want to fight it anyway when Hongjoong is just as smiley and hyper focused on _him_.

And not Mingi.

“Don’t get too excited,” Hongjoong hands him a small neatly folded paper bag held together with cute patterned washi tape. “It’s nothing big but I saw it and immediately thought of you, so.”

“Omo, now I feel special.” Yunho sits up fully to take the surprisingly weighty parcel. “Thank you, hyung.”

“You’re welcome,” Hongjoong gently taps the crown of Yunho’s head. “I’m going to go unpack, tell the others we’re getting barbeque later, hyung’s treat.”

“‘Kay,” Hongjoong nods, still smiling, walks off to quietly make his way down the hall.

Yunho pointedly does not look in the direction of his hyung’s ass.

Whatever stylist decided to start putting Hongjoong into skintight spandex really, truly deserved a raise.

Curiosity gets the better of him, though, and Yunho finally rips through the bag, forgoes trying to be careful with the washi tape, and is brought face to face with a keychain. A lightning bolt keychain with some tiny charms surrounding it—a wand, broom, tiny facsimile of glasses—stamped on the back with the official Hogwarts branding. Something about it sends a tickle of recognition down his spine.

It’s a lightning bolt.

A _lightning bolt_.

Yunho face goes a bit numb in the all encompassing shock that rolls through him.

Taller than Hongjoong. Good at dancing. Spaces out a lot. Could be one of us. Lightning bolt. Lightning bolt. _Lightning bolt_.

The door chimes again as someone comes from outside **—** Mingi this time, eating half an apple that looks suspiciously like one Jongho has split, so he’d probably just returned from recording another apple breaking video for their twitter. Yunho doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s making but he does know he’s about ten seconds away from hyperventilating. Mingi sees him and pauses mid bite to ask, “Bro, you good?”

“No,” Yunho hears himself answer as if from a distance. “Yes. Maybe. I can’t feel my face.”

“Uh—”

“Hyung—hyung gave me a present.” Yunho is definitely hyperventilating. Mingi is looking at him oddly where he wavers in the doorway to kick off his shoes. “Hyung gave me a Harry Potter keychain. Because he saw it and thought of me.”

“Is that...bad?” Mingi puts a hand to Yunho’s forehead like he’s checking for a fever. “Wait, which hyung? Seonghwa?”

“Hongjoong."

“Oh cool, he's back? I didn’t think he’d be home ‘til later.”

“Mingi,” Yunho starts laughing uncontrollably, grabs at his best friend’s arm to steady himself while his heart pounds out of control. “Mingi-yah! It’s me! It’s not _you_ , it’s _me_!”

“I can see it’s you.” Mingi eyes him like he’s debating calling a doctor or maybe a priest. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“Hongjoong-hyung likes me! Me!”

“Oh, that! Yeah we’ve all been trying to tell you that for ages,” Mingi peels Yunho’s fingers away from their deathgrip on his arm. “Wait, wait, wait, did you seriously think it was _me_?”

Keychain in hand and vibrating with the shivery rush of endorphins, Yunho can only nod his head eagerly like a deranged person. Mingi grimaces at him and says, “I take back what I said about you not being stupid.” 

Yunho kicks viciously at Mingi’s legs, “Yah, you could have just told me in the first place.”

“And miss you running around like a doofus? No, way.” Mingi takes another bite of apple. “Does hyung know?”

“Not yet.”

“Well then,” Mingi yanks him up from his place on the couch, steadies him when Yunho wobbles on weak knees, and pats him affectionately on the cheek. “What are you waiting for? Go get your man.”

The distance from the commons area to the hallway to Hongjoong’s room is only a matter of walking a few feet. For all he knows, Yunho teleports from his position on the couch to clutching the wood on either side of Hongjoong’s door frame. “Hyung!” Yunho bursts out, too loud, and startles Hongjoong who gapes at him wide-eyed with a minion neck pillow clutched like a maiden’s pearls to his chest. He looks terrified; ordinarily Yunho would laugh if he wasn’t also on the verge of _heart attack_. “Hyung, it’s me!”

“Yes, hi, I know it’s you,” Hongjoong stands on tip-toe to peer around him for the hidden camera crew obviously about to round the corner filming. “I literally just saw you less than five minutes ago.”

“No, I mean, I’m the shirtless guy!” Yunho pats his own chest in emphasis.

“Yunho-yah, you’re wearing a shirt right now. Isn’t that Wooyoung’s by the way,” Hongjoong squints at him. Yunho’s heart beats fast at the appearance of those crinkled eye bags. “How does that even fit you?”

“It doesn’t,” Yunho waves a hand in front of his face in dismissal, “but that’s not the point. Hyung!” Yunho feels possessed, giddily puts his palms on either side of Hongjoong’s beautiful, precious face. “I finally figured it out, I’m the shirtless guy you drooled over,” and in saying so, proceeds to slant their mouths together—off center, teeth a harsh ‘clack!’

Just as fast as the kiss starts, Hongjoong pushes Yunho back to an arms length away. “What the fuck are you doing? What about Mingi?”

He pouts. “What do you mean what _about_ Mingi?”

“Aren’t you two…,” Hongjoong trails off, looking lost and confused, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Mingi is my best friend,” Yunho smiles beatifically down at Hongjoong’s worried expression. “That’s it.”

“Oh, but, I thought—you said—I was so jealous, I—” Yunho watches in fascination as an embarrassed flush spreads from Hongjoong’s cheeks to his neck in a slow wave - mouth gaping open and closed like a fish. He looks stupid; Yunho loves him. “Nevermind, I’m going to shut up now.” Yunho removes the beanie from Hongjoong’s head, throws it toward the suitcase covered bed, and runs the fingers of one hand through the softness at Hongjoong’s nape.

“Kim Hongjoong-ssi,” voice pitched deep in mock seriousness, “I really, really like you.” Hongjoong’s answering grin is a happy, crooked thing that makes Yunho’s heart beat a staccato rhythm. His hyung, finally getting with the program, runs his hands lightly up Yunho’s chest to land on either side of his neck.

Hongjoong plays along, schools his expression into one of detached neutrality. “Jeong Yunho-ssi, I really, really like you, too. I would appreciate it if you would kiss me again.”

Yunho laughs, happy, and leans down to press against that perpetually smiling mouth he’s daydreamed about for so long. It’s much better this time around now that Hongjoong is ready and accepting, just a sweet press of trembling skin warmed by their breath and the scrape of day old stubble tickling Yunho’s chin. 

When they separate, Yunho leans his forehead against Hongjoong’s and waits for the adrenaline to make its way out of his system. Hongjoong trails a hand up his neck, dips a finger into the dimple on Yunho’s cheek. “This isn’t going to make things weird, is it?”

“Please,” Yunho rolls his eyes and twines the hand on his cheek with his own. “Everyone knew about your drooling over me, which, thank you by the way,” he says it half seriously, mostly just to see the way Hongjoong whines in mortification and hides his face in his chest, “and everyone knows how much I like you. Nothing is going to change except _now_ we can makeout in our free time.” He starts gently rocking them back and forth. “And take more naps together. And go on _dates_.”

“I see how it is,” Hongjoong says, muffled in his shirt, “you just want me for my cuddling abilities.”

Yunho grins, body vibrating from the rush of endorphins, “You and I both know you’re a terrible big spoon.”

Hongjoong smacks him playfully on the back. They giggle together in the still open doorway, trading kisses every once in a while until their jaws ache and they’re forced to stop again. Yunho doesn’t know how long they stand there—five minutes, an hour, a small eternity—but he does know that Park Seonghwa is the biggest cockblock in Korea.

An over enthusiastic “Oh my god!” is screeched right in Yunho’s fucking ear and Hongjoong jumps away from him leaving Yunho feeling bereft. They both turn to see Seonghwa furiously texting with a grin that would make even the Joker uncomfortable. “I have to see who won the bet, this is amazing!” Seonghwa looks up briefly to coo at them, “Congrats, by the way. It’s about damn time.”

Yunho watches Hongjoong gently press Seonghwa back away from the door, “Thank you, now go away.”

Seonghwa cocks an eyebrow at the hand pushing against his chest. “But this is my room too?”

“It sure is,” Hongjoong smiles serenely, “And I’m about to makeout with Yunho in it so go somewhere else for a bit hmm?” Shuts, locks the door in his face. Yunho snickers into his fist before Hongjoong turns back to him.

“I thought we had been making out, hyung.” Hongjoong grabs his elbow and leads Yunho to sit on Seonghwa’s bed. 

“Yunho-yah,” Hongjoong croons, now hovering over him with legs on either side of his hips and arms wrapped around his neck, “if you think a few kisses is making out,” Yunho gulps at the predatory glint in Hongjoong’s eyes, “I have so much to teach you.” 

Yunho grips hard at Hongjoong’s hips where they swivel just the slightest in his lap. “Good thing I’m a fast learner.”

Hongjoong smirks, “You sure are.” And licks into the seam of his mouth.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

They emerge a few hours later thoroughly debauched with bruised lips and hands clasped tightly together to see Seonghwa and Mingi huddled together on the couch, shellshocked expressions on their faces. Jongho and Yeosang are studying at the dining room table, giant headphones on their heads, and noticeably pale even from here. Yunho would feel bad if they all hadn’t been willfully contributing to his emotional anguish instead of telling him he could have being doing _things_ with Hongjoong this _entire time_. Right now all he feels is lighthearted and happy and loved for the first time in months. 

He also kind of feels like a piece of fruit that’s been handled too much, but, like, in a good way.

Hongjoong smirks at them and says, in a voice that has obviously been put to _use_ , “Ya’ll wanna get some barbecue?” and starts cackling like an _asshole_ into Yunho’s sleeve at their answering shrieks.

Yunho loves him.

Even better, Yunho happily thinks to himself when his hyung gives their hands a tight squeeze, now he knows Hongjoong loves him _back_.

 

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> -later at the cheapest kbbq place in town-
> 
> Hongjoong watches Yunho and Mingi shove too large lettuce wraps into each other's mouths trying to get the other to choke and sighs, fond, "He's so stupid. I'm going to ride him until he cries."
> 
> "Please," Seonghwa whimpers, on the verge of crying himself, "Please don't ever speak to me again."


End file.
